Downright Scary...

Whilst supping a cold one with friends at our hangar not long ago, a
short-lived yet intense summer storm blew through. High winds, heavy rain,
and impressive lightning caused us to lower the door a tad, but didn't deter
us from our appointed beers.

Right as the storm passed, we watched in amazement as a Skyhawk entered
downwind for Rwy 12. We all commented how we were glad not to have been in
that poor shmuck's shoes, and then returned to our conversation.

A few minutes later our hotel courtesy van went zipping past, obviously on
the way to pick up our wayward pilot. We toasted my night manager as he
went roaring by, and did it again as he drove back with our new guests, en
route back to the hotel...

The next morning I sought out our brave and stalwart guests, and was
surprised to meet a newly minted Private Pilot, off on his first long cross
country trip in a rented 172 with his wife. He nonchalantly mentioned the
"rough ride" into Iowa City, but soon the conversation drifted to local
attractions and our theme suites.

I then turned my attention to his wife, and asked her how she had enjoyed
the flight. She confessed that it had been pretty scary, so we started
giving her the usual pep-talk about how the bumps really aren't anything to
worry about, and how turbulence can be bothersome but not really dangerous.
We were pretty well along into our speechifying about how safe flying is,
when she stopped all conversation by saying "Things got pretty spooky when
we couldn't see anything....I just covered my eyes and couldn't look out!"

We kind of looked at each other, stunned, and asked her what she meant.

She went on to say that about 15 miles out, just past the nearby town (and
airport) of Tipton, IA, their windshield had gone completely white -- and
then almost immediately totally black. It was at this point where she
covered her eyes in fright, and couldn't look.

She then mentioned how her husband had called Cedar Rapids approach, and how
they had "given them directions to Iowa City."

Uncomfortable silence followed this revelation, as we realized how close to
dying this poor woman had come. Not wanting to scare her any more than
necessary, I asked what Cedar Rapids had done. She replied that the
controller had asked what their intentions were, since conditions were
rock-solid IFR with thunderstorms from their present position all the way
into Iowa City. She said her husband had announced his intention to land in
Iowa City, and that the controller then gave them a vector towards the
airport.

At this point our hapless pilot piped up about how he had "flown
instruments" down the heading until they popped into the clear, pretty much
right over the airport. This must have been when we spotted him on
downwind.

I told them both how lucky they were, and left it at that. After all, they
were here for a good time, and it wasn't my position as innkeeper to be
lecturing my guests. In fact, I didn't even mention the "Tipton Towers" --
twin TV transmission towers that reach some 1700 feet into the sky right
near Tipton.

However, this man's complacence in the face of stormy IFR conditions is
exactly what we all read about in the NTSB reports each month. The guy
over-flew a perfectly good airport (Tipton) in order to fly head-long into
the clouds, a thunderstorm, potential death, and (almost coincidentally)
Iowa City. He had risked his life (and his wife's life) in order to
penetrate a fast-moving, short-lived storm, just so he could get here in
time for...dinner?

God was on his side that day. Downright scary, I tell you.
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"